


Colours of a Broken Soul

by XxGh0stCatxX



Series: Sane (Sagiel/Jane) Oneshots Galore [5]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Abusive Father, Abusive Relationship, Angst, Dark, F/F, Panic Attacks, Short Chapters, Swearing, Violence, based on another story, colours meaning things, descriptive abuse, jane is afraid, sagiel doesnt understand people, sagiel is tiny and violent, there are side relationships but this is a Sane fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:02:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxGh0stCatxX/pseuds/XxGh0stCatxX
Summary: Someone once told Sagiel Seacliffe that she saw too much red. She didn't understand at the time, but she understood it had something to do with her bloody knuckles and Alyxander's bloody nose.





	1. Red is Blood

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [where villains spend the weekend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368201) by [bokeae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokeae/pseuds/bokeae). 



Sagiel Seacliffe was once told she saw too much red. She didn't understand at the time, she was 8, but she knew it had something to do with her bloody knuckles and Alyxander's bloody nose. When her mother asked her later why she had hit Alyx, she shrugged. "He made fun of Jane's scars." Her mother tilted her head,

"Who's Jane?"

"A girl in my class. She likes to wear a yellow scarf. Scarlett stole it and then Alyxander took it from Scarlett and they laughed at her cos she's got scars 'round her neck and so I hit him." Her mother looked horrified, and Sagiel couldn't help but think that Jane had had the same expression when Sagiel had given the soft yellow scarf back with little orange spots from the blood on her hands dripping on it. She tilted her head to the side. "Mom, what does 'seeing red' mean? Does it have to do with blood? Because I saw Alyx's blood when I punched his nose."

Mrs. Seacliffe just shook her head. Sage wondered what that meant.

Jane was afraid of this strange, angry girl whose eyes burned black when she was hitting Alyxander. She was afraid of being hit too, even though she hadn't done anything to make the other angry. Alyxander came up and apologized the next day though, so she was tentatively grateful towards Sagiel.

Jane liked to give flowers to the class on Fridays because her mother said that flowers make people happy. This week she gave the class red poppies that her mother kept in her shop. She gave Sagiel her flower last and Sage blushed as Jane said 'thank you for Monday' in a very soft voice that reminded Sagiel of yellow.

Sagiel decided she liked red.


	2. Grey is Sadness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sagiel was running to the bathroom after punching Jane's boyfriend, remembering how his cheek had bloomed purple after her first hit had landed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:  
> Abusive father  
> Mildly descriptive violence  
> LGBTQ+ slurs

They were 13 now and people were starting to change. Jane stopped wearing her pretty scarves and started wearing dresses with high necks and makeup that made her eyes look darker. Sagiel thought she looked beautiful. And so did everyone else, if the boys who were always hanging around her was anything to go by.

She didn't really understand how feelings worked, but she understood colors. Certain colors invoked certain feelings and they made more sense. Purple was for frustration and hurt. And she was very purple whenever she saw Jane with her boyfriend. He looked at her one day and smirked and Sagiel suddenly understood what the phrase 'seeing red' meant. She gritted her teeth and walked away. He walked up another when they walked over to the rest of the group after lunch and leaned down to whisper in Sagiel's ear. "She tastes like cherries, by the way. Last time we kissed she tasted like bubblegum, and another time she tasted like mint." Sagiel's expression darkened, and after a quick glance around she cocked her fist back and slammed it into his cheek bone. He cried out and hit the ground and Sagiel kneed him in the nose.

Jane grabbed her before she could land another hit and Sagiel whipped around and shoved her away before running. She was running to the bathroom, sprinting really, throwing herself at the sink, gripping the porcelain basin, and staring into the mirror. She took in her sweaty face, her hair falling out of her ponytail, her heaving chest. She remembered how his cheek had bloomed dark purple as he fell back and how his nose crunched under her knee. She turned the faucet on as high as it would go and scrubbed at her split knuckles even as they turned purple and the blood started flowing again. She heard footsteps heading towards the door and she turned the faucet off and rushed into a stall, pulled herself up onto the toilet and tried to calm her harsh breathing.

"Sagiel!" Jane's voice called angrily. Sagiel crouched down, praying to a God she didn't bother believing in that Jane would just leave. She didn't. She just started opening stall doors, searching for the smaller auburn-haired girl. She reached Sagiel's stall and before she could even attempt to open the door Sagiel opened it herself, stepping out with her head down. She was looking down at her shoes which had drips of blood on the grey canvas. Jane grabbed her arm and began dragging her out of the bathroom, their teacher waiting outside to take Sagiel to the principal's office.

When she got home her mother did her little head shake and her father smacked her already hurt hands with a wooden spoon. He yelled a little, asking things like "Why the fuck would you do that?!" and "You fucking dyke!" and "If you don't stop fucking getting in trouble I'm putting your little fag ass out on the street!". And Sagiel just stood quietly and said "Yes sir" before retreating to her room to wrap her knuckles.

She wondered what the word dyke meant. She looked down at her hands. She kept her nails short, blunted like a boy’s. She thought her father hated her because she wasn’t properly girly. She wondered what her mother’s head shake meant. Sagiel wondered about a lot of things, including what made her hit Sam. All he’d done was tell her something she had wondered before.

The next day at school she looked up the word dyke. She wondered what a lesbian was and so she looked that up too.  _ A girl who likes girls _ , she thought.  _ Do I like girls?  _ Then she thought of Jane with her soft dark hair and milk chocolate eyes and her pale pink lips that Sagiel wanted to kiss. Her eyes widened in shock and she realized that if her father were to find out he was right she would be out on the street. She then decided that she couldn’t like Jane anymore and so she acted like she hated her.

The world was grey.


	3. Green is Odd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had mixed feelings about green. On one hand it was the colour of sickness, of gut churning jealousy, of cold eyes that didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings:  
> LGBTQ+ slurs  
> Hints at an abusive boyfriend  
> Abusive father

They were 15 and often times Sagiel cried grey tears in her grey room in a grey world. Sagiel didn’t much like grey. She much preferred pink. Pink like the bubblegum Jane liked to chew during class, pink like the blush that bloomed like camellia blossoms on Jane’s cheeks. 

She hated green. 

Green was the colour of James' eyes which looked at her coldly because he knew she wasn’t into what they did after school. Green was how she felt whenever she looked at Jane, Jane who had friends to sit with at lunch and a nice girlfriend now, Natalie was her name. She also had green eyes. Sagiel hated them. Green was the colour her bruises faded to after a while. Green was cold indifference and burning hot jealousy in her gut. Green was not-yet-healed bruises and vomit after her father punched her in the gut and called her ‘faggot’.

Jane wore a mint green hairbow one day and Sagiel stared for a while. Jane turned towards her friend laughing and caught Sagiel’s eyes. Sagiel just continued staring, keeping the eye contact. Jane shuffled her feet and Sagiel lowered her eyelids as Jane’s eyes darted away. She thought maybe mint wasn’t that bad. As she got up to throw away the rest of her unfinished lunch she felt eyes on her. She partially turned her head, just enough to see Jane watching her. Later that night Sagiel thought about what that might have meant. 

She had mixed feelings about green. On one hand it was the colour of sickness, of gut churning jealousy, of cold eyes that didn’t care.

On the other it was the colour of rebirth, of spring days in the park, of Jane’s hairbow…

Green was an odd colour.


	4. Purple and Crimson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings (most of these are in the tags but just letting you know):  
> Mentions of an abusive boyfriend  
> Abusive father  
> There is a panic attack at the end  
> Swearing

Purple was angry, Sagiel had decided. Almost as angry as crimson.

Both colours scared her immensely. Purple was the colour of her bruises after her father was through with her and crimson was the colour his face turned when he found out she had gotten into another fight.

Sagiel used to like purple. Used to like how it bloomed across other kids’ skin when she hit them hard enough, used to like the crimson blood that poured from noses and gums, and sometimes cheekbones if she hit with the right amount of force.

She was 16 now and she thought of how she was stained purple and crimson. Her father was careful with where he put the bruises, usually on her ribs and stomach and back where they would be hidden by her shirts. He got too drunk one night and punched her in the face, giving her a brilliant black eye. When she had gotten to school the next day her friend Tora had rushed over to check on her. Tora was a sweet Japanese girl who had moved in next to Sagiel a year ago. “What happened?!” she demanded. Sagiel shrugged.

“Some assholes in the park tried to mug me, so I taught ‘em a lesson. Unfortunately those pansy fucknuts managed to get a hit in on my face,” she laughed bitterly. Tora gave her a look that clearly said she didn’t believe her friend. Sagiel didn’t blame her. Her eyes happened to flick over Tora’s shoulder to where Jane was sitting, staring at her. Sagiel glared because it was all Jane’s fault, wasn’t it? If she wasn’t so damn _pretty,_ Sagiel wouldn’t be a faggot, and maybe her father wouldn’t do this to her. It wouldn’t be the last time her father hit her in the face, or at all. She continued dating James to keep up her cover as being straight and he never bothered asking about the bruises and she never bothered telling him about them.

Her father punched her again one night, right in the mouth. He didn’t bother taking his ring off this time, just hauled off and hit her. She had a chip in her top right canine and a scar on the lip over it. She simply picked herself up off the floor and carried herself to the bathroom to check how bad it was. The flesh around her mouth was dark, dark purple, almost black, as well as painted with red from her split lip. She was once again stained crimson and violet.

The next day she heard whispers about Jane’s sweet 16 party. She picked out the words ‘exclusive’ and ‘invitation only’ from the mutters and tuned out after. She daydreamed about getting away from her father, even if it was only for one night. Then she heard someone clearing their throat softly from in front of her desk. She came back to and was suddenly staring at an envelope with her name on it. Her eyes traced up the envelope to the hand holding it, to the arm connected to said hand, and then the head connected to the shoulder. Jane was staring down at her as Sagiel stared up. She shook the envelope impatiently as Sagiel’s eyes darted down to stare at it, dumbstruck. Sagiel’s voice started working again, “What the fuck is that?”

Jane flinched back as though slapped, before drawing herself up again. “It’s an invitation to my sweet 16. Take it or leave it, I don’t care, I was just trying to be nice.” She put as much venom into her words as possible, but Sagiel noticed how her eyes lingered on the cut lip that was starting to scab over. She barked out a bitter laugh.

“Trying to be nice, eh? Or do you just _pity_ me? ‘ _Oh poor Sagiel Seacliffe who has nearly no friends! I better invite her to my fancy, expensive, exclusive, by-invitation-only, party!’_ Is that what you thought?” Sagiel’s vision clouded over, she couldn’t stand pity. She didn’t want it, and she sure as hell didn’t need it. She wasn’t sure who Jane thought she was, but Sagiel didn’t like people assuming things about her. Jane stared at her, before flushing crimson in anger, throwing the invitation on the desk, and storming away. Sagiel stared at it for a while before cramming it into her backpack and excusing herself from class for the bathroom. She hid in a stall and pulled her sleeves up and stared at her thin wrists, the veins pulsing blue underneath paper-thin skin. She had yellow and green bruises wrapped around her wrists from where her father had grabbed her a couple weeks ago. She pulled up her shirt and was met with an ugly collage of purple, blue, green, yellow, and brown marks. Bruises new and old littered almost every available inch of skin and she didn’t know how much longer she would survive without breaking.

After school she went home with James, up to his room where he would probably add more bruises from being too rough. After, she stumbled out of his room, down the stairs, greeting his mother on the way, out the front door, and began her walk home, praying that her father wouldn’t come home tonight, and that she could shower, get her homework down, and go to sleep without having to add to her ever growing and changing gallery of bruises. She pulled out her key, noting that the lights were all off in the house, which meant one of two things; her father wasn’t home yet or he had already gone to bed. She slowly opened the door, not calling out in case it was the latter option. She crept up the stairs to her room, stopping every few steps to listen to the eerily quiet house. She made it to her room without incident and dropped her bag, closing the door softly and flipping the lock before allowing herself to relax. Her bag fell over, loose papers falling out along with a thick envelope. Sagiel looked at it, cocking her head to the side. The envelope actually looked like it was expensive, and her name was written across the front in script handwriting. She sighed and dropped to the floor in front of her bag, snatching up the stupid invitation, and pulling the flap open. She pulled on the piece of paper inside that had a lilac border and more of the same script writing in black, proclaiming:

 

You are Cordially Invited

Jane Arkensaw’s 16th Birthday Party on October 14.

Please R.S.V.P at XXX-XXX-XXXX by October 12.

Attire should be semi-formal.

We Hope to See You There!

She bit her lip, gazing at the heavy, cream stationery. Should she? Her eyes glanced to the phone on her desk, flitted back to the invitation, and over to her closet. She took a deep breath, stood, and walked to the desk. She picked up the phone and dialed, taking her time with the task. _Ring… Ring… Ring… Ring… “Hello?”_ Sagiel’s heart leapt into her throat.

“Hello…” her voice wavered as she replied to the voice on the other end. She cleared her throat. “I, uhm, I was R.S.V.Ping to Jane’s party?”

 _“Oh! Alright, may I ask your name?”_ The voice sounded surprised. Sage glanced at the time, she couldn’t blame the other, it was pretty late.

“Sagiel. Sagiel Seacliffe.” She heard the sound of paper rustling.

_“Can you spell your name?”_

“S-A-G-I-E-L S-E-A-C-L-I-F-F-E.”

_“Alright, thank you. I hope you can make it!”_

“Me too, good-bye.”

_“Have a nice night!”_

She hung up the phone with a _click._ A little sigh left her lips. She shook her head and walked back towards her bathroom, hoping she could get a quick shower in. She undressed quickly, avoiding looking at the mirror, and getting in the shower. She blasted the hot water, trying to scald away the feelings of wrongness and filth that came with being her. She looked down her body as the water cascaded over her, looking at the disgusting bruises forming from James' hands, the way her ribs poked out from her skin, the fact that she was too thin to be healthy. Her breath rattled in her chest as tears stung her eyes. She slid down the shower wall, whimpering softly. She couldn’t tell the difference between her tears and the shower water at this point as she gasped and clutched her arms around herself, choking on the lump in her throat that accompanied her tears. She clawed at her arms, trying to rip out her own veins that were filled with poison. She shuddered and whimpered and clawed and dug her nails into her sides and just _broke_ . When she looked back on this moment later, she would realize she was staining herself with the very colours she hated most.  
  
Purple and crimson were anger and pain.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Colours of a Broken Soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8588146) by [XxGh0stCatxXs Original Works (XxGh0stCatxX)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxGh0stCatxX/pseuds/XxGh0stCatxXs%20Original%20Works)




End file.
